by G. A. Aiken
Ailean washed his hands in the wash bowl before walking back to her side.
“Why don’t you get some sleep?” he asked her, sitting beside her on the bed.
“What if he dies while I sleep? I’ll never forgive myself.”
It took all Ailean’s strength not to roll his eyes. He knew she meant every word. “He won’t die while you sleep, Shalin. He merely ate something that didn’t sit well with him. You’ve no need to fret so.”
“He’s mine. My responsibility. I’ll sit with him until he’s better.”
“No. You’ll get some sleep.” Ailean took the pup from her lap. “I’ll stay up with him so you can rest.”
“That isn’t fair.” She smiled and stood, taking back the puppy. “We’ll stay up together.”
“Uh…”
But he didn’t have much choice, since she crawled into the center of the bed and sat down, her legs crossed so her ailing puppy could rest right in the middle. She patted the space across from her and Ailean reluctantly moved there, desperately clutching the fur covering against him.
They sat silently for several minutes, until Shalin said, “I enjoyed dinner tonight.”
“Good. You, uh, blended in quite nicely.”
“Did I?”
“Aye. They all like you. Oh, and I got word from the ones protecting your father. He’s fine and safe.”
Shalin briefly closed her eyes. “Thank you. I worry about him so.”
“Why? I’ve never met him, but I’ve always heard he’s well-respected.”
“He is. Very well-respected, especially among our scholars. But, he can be a little…a little…” She suddenly smiled. The softest, warmest smile Ailean had ever seen. “He can be a bit befuddled at times.”
“Is that why he’s not an Elder?”
“He and the Elders don’t see eye to eye on much. He never understands why anyone has disputes if they’re not related to something scholarly. He’ll argue for hours over some tiny historical fact or another, trying to prove his point, but he won’t fight for his territory. And without much prompting he’ll just give you his gold. He doesn’t understand why our people can be, as he likes to put it, ‘so bloody violent all the time.’ Eventually even he had to admit that being an Elder was not for him.”
Ailean began to relax, realizing he wouldn’t leave her this night. She seemed to need him, although her puppy was just fine. Besides, he enjoyed her company more than he could say. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“I’ve heard it told you intend to be an Elder one day.”
“Intend and will are two different things. I’ve a far way to go before I hope even to be considered.”
“But it’s not what you want, is it?”
And the way her entire body jerked at his question, causing her puppy to whine in annoyance before snuggling back to sleep, he knew he was right.
“Why would you ever think that?”
“Because I see no excitement in your eyes when you talk about it.”
Excitement? In her eyes? Was that even physically possible? “What?”
With a yawn, Ailean leaned back on the bed and Shalin felt a little guilty for not letting him go back to his room. But between her sick puppy and the fact she liked having Ailean around—especially when all he had on was that fur covering around his hips, giving her a delicious view of that chest—she had no intention of sending him away.
Could she do it, she wondered. Could she lure Ailean to her bed? True, she had him in her bed, but could she make him want her? Even she had to admit she’d never been known for her seduction tactics. And she couldn’t bring up the courage to simply pounce.
“When you talk about a library or being alone, your eyes light up. Or when you were telling that story to everyone downstairs. There was excitement in your face and your voice that wasn’t quite there when you discussed becoming an Elder one day. Looked more like you were going to the gallows.”
“That’s not true. I…I’m just tired. I’m not very enthusiastic about anything when I’m tired.”
Although Ailean was a bit correct. The thought of becoming an Elder almost made her queasy. All the politics. All the centaur shit. She’d rather bury herself in a library than face that life on a daily basis. But she’d promised.
Because she didn’t want to think of it any more, Shalin asked, “And what about your father?”
Ailean stared at her while he put one arm behind his head and Shalin immediately became fascinated with the way his muscles bulged from the action. Gods, he makes a beautiful human. “You know my father, Shalin.”
“I know of your father. Can’t say as I met him. Afton the Hermit.”
“He’s had other names. In the past.”
If a dragon lived past his first hundred winters, he or she would start to gather many names over time. It was nothing to be ashamed of, yet Ailean appeared…troubled. “Like?” she prompted.
“Afton the Cruel. Afton the Murderer.”
“Oh.” Shalin pushed her hair behind her ear and she briefly noticed Ailean’s eyes followed her hand while she did it. “Your father is that Afton? I always thought the Hermit and the…uh…Cruel were two different dragons.”
“No. Just one.” Ailean’s gaze moved to the ceiling. “He wasn’t always like that, you know. He didn’t earn either of those names until after my mother died.”
Now, that she understood. More than most, she was sure. “My father was lost after my mother died. Inconsolable for a while, and completely lost. She was equally brilliant, you see, and understood him so well, but much less befuddled. She kept everything organized and logical. Now when I go to visit, I find him under desks, behind desks, searching through piles of gold that turn out to be nothing more than brass coins merely painted gold.” She shrugged at Ailean’s smirk. “He can never tell the real from the fake. And I don’t think he bothers to try.”
“How did she die?”
“As only one of my parents can. She went out for a snack and picked up a bull instead of a cow. Its horn lodged in the roof of her mouth, piercing it. Nothing any healer did could fix it, and eventually she caught a brutal fever and died.”
“How old were you?”
Shalin thought a moment. “Barely thirty winters. Young.” With the puppy asleep, she rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her fists, focusing on Ailean. “And you?”
“Eleven winters.”
“Och. You were a babe, Ailean. I’m so sorry.”
Ailean stared hard at the ceiling. “It was my fault, you know.”
“Your fault? How could it be?”
“Because I didn’t stay put. My father took my brothers hunting and I wanted to go with them. So I followed.”
“At eleven winters? Could you even fly?”
“Barely. So of course my father told me to go back home. I did, but I was so low to the ground—unable to get any real height—soldiers spotted me and they thought I’d be fun to hunt.” He suddenly closed his eyes. “They had me, too. Cornered. About half a battalion’s worth.”
“For a hatchling?” Sometimes humans truly disgusted her.
“And then she came. A battle dragon like all the other females of her line. She decimated them, but one of them…one of them had good aim. He wounded her, and though she saved me and destroyed them all, she couldn’t save herself.”
“And your father went on to become Afton the Cruel.”
“Aye.”
“Did any humans survive?”
To her surprise, Ailean opened his eyes and smiled. Truly, the most beautiful thing about him had to be that smile. “Some. You see, my father was gone for days, but three human females found me. All sisters. One a healer, one a barmaid, and the other a servant in the duke’s castle. For three days they stayed with me. The healer, a witch, she tried to help my mother, but there was nothing to be done. So they made sure I ate and soothed me when I cried. Then my father came home. When he didn’t find us in the cave, he
tracked us down. He almost killed the women until I stopped him, told him what happened. He left the villagers alone after that. They’d suffered enough, you see. The Duke, his men, they took the villagers’ food and used their women, sometimes even the young ones barely old enough to breed themselves. They left untold numbers of babes of their own lying around but they never claimed them. But that duke and his soldiers—they didn’t survive my father’s wrath.”
“So that’s how your father got his name.”
“Actually…no. No one thought he was cruel then—just angry. Then word spread that the duke was dead and others came to claim the land as their own. But my father always met them first, and he’d kill them all. He was still angry, you see. If it moved, he killed it. Eventually they all stopped coming and my father went into his cave and rarely came out. My uncles, my aunts, they all taught me and my brothers how to fight, how to survive.” He glanced at her and shook his head. “No, Shalin. No one among my kin ever blamed me. At least not as much as I blamed myself.”
“You were a babe,” she reminded him fiercely, annoyed he’d even think otherwise.
“I should have stayed put. I didn’t. And she died, all because I couldn’t fight for myself.”
“Fight for yourself? Ailean you were too—”
“Don’t say I was too young. A dragon can never be too young to learn to protect himself. Not in this world. My sons and daughters will be able to fight from hatching.”
“Ailean, isn’t that a bit of a tall order?”
“No. My brothers and I came up with a training method that will get them started early. My hatchlings will be prepared for anything.”
Shalin felt for the future hatchlings of Ailean the Wicked. They wouldn’t have easy lives. Then she frowned for a moment when she wondered who exactly he’d fall so in love with he’d settle down and have hatchlings with. But she quickly pushed the feeling away when she realized it was none of her business.
“Did all this happen here?” she asked, trying to distract herself.
“Aye. Madenn’s kin were the ones who stayed with me. Her great-great-grandmother and aunts. My father wanted nothing to do with any of them. Although he spared them, he still felt nothing for them. My brothers could go either way, but I knew these people needed protection. Human males can’t stay away from unclaimed territory for long. It’s like this overwhelming need they all have to conquer anything they’ve even heard about.”
“So you stayed.”
“Seemed natural, really. I’d already spent so much time with them and they never told my secret. Eventually the entire village knew about me and no one said a word.”
“But didn’t you hate them? The humans?”
“For the actions of a few? No. Doesn’t seem fair to do that.”
He had to be the first dragon Shalin had ever heard say something like that.
“You look tired,” he suddenly told her.
“No. I’m fine.” And to prove it, she yawned.
Smiling, Ailean turned on his side and picked up the puppy from her lap, laying the little fur ball lengthwise on the bed. Then Ailean patted the mattress. “Come on now. Stretch out here.”
“But, the puppy…” Yet she was already stretching out on her side, facing Ailean, the puppy between them, her eyes rapidly closing. The day had caught up with her so quickly.
“He’ll be fine,” Ailean murmured, and she felt him take her hand. “And tomorrow, Mistress Shalin, we’ll discuss his diet.”
5
Ailean didn’t know what woke him up first. The two suns shining in his eyes—or the paw repeatedly slapping at his head.
Yawning, he glared at the little monster trying to claw him to death. “Oh, now you’re feeling fine, aren’t you?”
He yipped in answer and that’s when Shalin murmured in her sleep.
That’s also when Ailean realized Shalin was asleep on his chest.
Slightly terrified, Ailean desperately tried to remember if they’d done anything the night before. He didn’t think so and, when he looked down at her, she still wore the red gown from yesterday and the fur covering he’d brought with him still lay between them.
He let out a breath, but still didn’t know what had come over him. He might not have touched her, but all the things they’d discussed…
Ailean never talked about his father with anyone but his brothers, and those two never mentioned the old dragon unless necessary. Ailean definitely never discussed his mother and what happened that awful day. His own kin knew never to mention it. Nearly a century ago, one cousin drunkenly brought it up after a family hunting party and lost both his horns when Ailean snapped them off.
But Ailean had told Shalin pretty much everything. Gods…why?
The puppy yipped again and Shalin’s head snapped up from his chest. “Wha—where—?”
“You’re safe, Shalin,” he told her, seeing the confusion and panic on her face. When she looked at him, her panic seemed to pass and she smiled at him with real warmth.
“Good morn, Ailean.”
“Good morn to you.”
She turned a bit to look at the puppy, but she seemed more than comfortable cuddled up to his chest. “And look at you, Lord Terrify Me.”
The dog yipped again and Ailean said, “You best let him out, Shalin. Or there’ll be more mess to clean up.”
“Let him out?”
“Just open the door. He’ll find the rest of the dogs.”
“All right.”
He thought she’d roll away from him, but instead, she moved across him to get to the edge of the bed. Ailean gritted his teeth and willed his body not to react. It had to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done and he’d gotten in a fight once with a giant octopus.
“Will he come back?”
“I’m sure. He’s bonded to you, Shalin.” And he knew how the little bastard felt. Ailean knew if he left this moment, he’d probably come back, too.
“Come on, then, you little terror.” Shalin picked the dog up and walked to the door. Ailean heard it open and then Shalin’s strangled, “Uh…”
“What’s wrong?” He rolled to his side, raising himself up on one elbow, and looked toward the door. “Shit,” he barely had a chance to mutter before Bideven pushed past Shalin and stalked in, Arranz and the twins right behind him.
“You dirty bastard. Couldn’t keep your hands off her, could ya?”
Ailean slid off the bed and stood in front of his kin, the only thing holding up that fur covering his hand.
“I’m not quite sure what it has to do with you, brother.”
Bideven moved toward him but Shalin calmly stepped between them. “He never touched me.”
Arranz sighed. “Shalin, love, could you move? You’re in the way of some lovely violence.”
Giving no more than an annoyed sniff, she didn’t respond to Arranz and instead said again, “He never touched me, Bideven.”
“Then why was he here?”
“I needed help with my puppy.”
Arranz and the twins started laughing and didn’t seem inclined to stop while Bideven’s accusing gaze shot daggers at Ailean.
“You bastard!”
Shalin rested her hand against Bideven’s chest. “Stop this now.”
“Shalin, you’re an innocent about this sort of thing—”
Ailean didn’t realize he’d snorted out loud until they all looked at him.
He glanced at Shalin and shrugged. “Sorry.”
“—and his intent,” Bideven finished. “We’re just trying to protect you.”
Shalin folded her arms over her chest. “Do you think so little of your own brother?”
The confusion on their faces would be something Ailean remembered for ages.
“What?”
“Do you think so little of him? That he’d take advantage of me. Force me.”
“I never said—”
“Is that truly what you expect of your own kin? I thought the Cadwaladr Clan loyal to eac
h other.”
“We are.”
“I haven’t seen it. Not when you barge in here and accuse your own brother of being all manner of lizard.”
“I never meant to—”
“Then you should apologize.”
“Apologize?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t be—”
Shalin’s foot began to tap and Bideven growled. “Fine. I apologize.”
Patting his shoulder, Shalin ushered Bideven and the rest out. “Now don’t you feel better?”
“Not really,” Bideven shot back, but Shalin had already closed the door in his face.
Ailean stared at Shalin. “That was…brilliant!”
Shalin held her finger to her lips while she bent over silently laughing. “He’ll hear.”
“Good!” Ailean watched her walk across the room. “How did you do that?”
She shrugged before falling back on the bed, her grin wide and happy. “Years of court life, my dear dragon.”
It happened so fast, Shalin thought a wizard must be involved. But no. It was simply rainy season in Kerezik and that meant sudden darkness and sudden storms.
Well, she thought, that might at least keep the beasts from the door for a little while. Lightning dragons, from what she’d read, didn’t much like traveling in this sort of weather. Not only did they possess lightning within them as her people possessed flame, but they attracted lightning. Which could make for painful, if not lethal, travels during storm seasons in the different regions.
Running a comb through her freshly washed hair, she looked at the courtyard beneath her window. Not surprisingly, very few of the human servants were about and the few that were quickly scurried toward one of the many buildings so they were out of the rain. Then she saw him, marching through the rain, not caring that his clothes were getting soaked.
Ailean stopped and spoke to a large, burly human. She’d guess the woman was the local blacksmith, based on her dress and the size of her arms. Laughing at some joke of his, the female placed her hand on his forearm, and Shalin’s eyes narrowed dangerously.